If you're plannin' on going out west, there are a few things you gotta know. The Wild West is one beautiful, and fucked up mistress.

A large wagon, with a group of horseback riders surrounding it, charged down a desert path. They were being chased by a single man with a handkerchief over his face, desperate to keep up. He wore a black vest, a sweat stained collared shirt, dirt stained dress pants and match brown boots.

The rider caught up to the wagon, pulling out a pistol. "William McDonnell! I've come for you!" the man screamed, taking out his gun and aiming at the gang members riding. He squeezed off a shot and immediately leaned over to the opposite side of his horse, hiding behind it.

And the people inhabiting this land are a lot more fucked up than Lady West.

A horseman made his way close to the stranger, aiming his gun at him. The stranger sat right side up again, still ducked, and then closed the gap inbetween the two. The stranger lifted up the man's shooting arm, sending a bullet into the sky. With his other hand, the masked man grabbed a large knife from his belt and stabbed him in the shoulder, pushing him off.

Now the Lord and Lady West know I ain't a saint... But I do do work that no other man nor woman would ever wanna do.

The masked man gained speed as he got parallel to the carriage. The driver looked at him with hatred as he tried to aim his gun at the man. He slowed down just in time to dodge a bullet, and he steered the horse to go on the other side. He got close to the wagon, and reached his hand out to try and grab the roof of it, very slowly and with difficulty standing up on his horse.

No I don't claim bounties, or wear a fancy little badge claimin' I run a washed down town no bigger than my pinky toe.

A bullet hit the masked man's horse, and the animal tumbled down and got left behind as the carriage raged on, and the man now held on to it for dear life. He found a foothold on the small window on the side, and he managed to climb on top of the wagon. He put his belly to the wood as the driver tried to shake him off, and reload his gun at the same time. The stranger climbed to the front, trying to wrestle the gun out of the man's hand, as well as the reigns as bullets continued to fly.

I work for the United States Government."

The driver was shot, and the horses continued on, even faster now due to the loud gunshots. The stranger tried to calm the horses down, but to no avail. Just then a large rough hand grabbed the stranger from his neck, and threw him backwards. The masked man managed to hold on to the roof still, and looked up to see the ugliest and dirties man he had ever seen. He was bald, his eyes dark and cruel. He had a large tobacco stained beard, and a gruesome scar across his face. He bared his yellow missing teeth in what seemed to be a snarl. "You's the son'bitch gov'met man killin' my boys?"

Now I know what you're probably thinkin'. What the hell is a federal agent doing so far out West? Why ain't he collecting taxes and sitting at a desk doing paperwork? I'm not an ordinary federal agent.

The masked man's first punch did nothing to the man's stomach. He moved swiftly out of the way of a giant fist, and tried another quick punch to the gut to him only laughing. William McDonnell picked up the man with ease, and threw him downward hard onto the carriage top, the wood giving in, and the man taking a trip down into the carriage.

Washington D.C. realized just how cruel and fucked up Lady West was, so President Grant himself handpicked me and a few other gentlemen and women, to venture out onto the Range, and tidy things up. A lot of people gave in to the Mistress, by death or corruption, but me? I am mighty fine at my job, and sticking with it.

The stranger was exactly where he wanted to be. The carriage was filled with goods, and explosives, and lit by a lamp, but the only thing he was concerned about was... He stood up and saw on a barrel of dynamite was a large bag. The man tossed the bag over his shoulder, and started for the door... Until a hand grabbed him and slammed him into the wall. William McDonnell had made his way down in the cart with him. He continued to smash the man's body into the side of the cart, and unknown to the both of them, the lamp fell over, and setting fire to a bag of goods. The stranger fell to the ground after a hit, saw the fire, and his eyes went wide with fear.

I've been doin this for a while now, meeting some of my fellow comrades along our path, but we usually keep to ourselves.

The stranger could only hold on to the bag at this point, but he wasn't giving in. He threw a few punches, and kicks, but his ultimate goal was to get closer to the door, and make sure that McDonnell was in between him and the fire. McDonnell wasn't a smart man, so he only noticed the smell and heat of the fire until it was too late. The carriage exploded, sending the two men flying out of it.

We don't always work alone. We usually assemble a group of locals to help us any chance we can. People out for justice, revenge, money, it doesn't really matter, as long as our job gets finished at the end of the day. And when everything's said and done our group disbands and we find more willing to help. But some stay.

The whole side of the masked stranger's body was covered in soot and ash, his clothes, thick brown hair, and beard were still smoking. He winced at the pain as he tried to sit up, but once he did he looked around at his surroundings.He managed to live due to the gang leader's body, which was a mess next to him. Debris from the wagon was everywhere, anyone next to the carriage was also either dead or unconscious. The bag was a few feet away, and the stranger grabbed it, letting out a grunt of pain, and pulling out a pocket watch. He was still on time.

The man limped over to the closest horse he could, climbed on board, and rode his way back towards the direction they came, back to the town. He had a delivery to make.

My name is Henry Leopold Adams. Friends call me Leo, people in the west call me the Coyote. I was fortunate enough to get a nickname by Lady West, while others of my profession aren't so lucky to get one while living. This ain't an easy job, and many call it a lost cause. They say no one can tame the West, not even the United States... But not even Lady West can escape Lady Liberty.